Washing away the forlorn images of a young child,
sweeping the memories under the carpet.
Time has a way of once again revealing what
happened in the past.
Trying to turn away from it, run, race to the
nearest exit, only to find there are none.
All doors have been unlocked, opened, to the
intense suffering felt inside.
Now there are no more doors by which to escape,
all has been revealed and stands staring.
There's no alternative left, no choices to be
made, the past must be explored, sought, confessed.
This must be done in order to have a future, to
become an adult and have a life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very thoughtful, real stuff! I love it!